Group Title: Virgin Islands Funeral Memorial Booklets
Title: Funeral Booklet for Anesta Caroline Lewis
Full Citation
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 Material Information
Title: Funeral Booklet for Anesta Caroline Lewis
Series Title: Virgin Islands Funeral Memorial Booklets
Physical Description: Book
Language: English
Creator: Estate of Anesta Caroline Lewis
Institute for Museum and Library Services (National Leadership Grant Award, ND-00026) ( Donor )
Subject: Lewis, Anesta Caroline
Human relations
Funeral rites and ceremonies
Caribbean   ( lcsh )
Spatial Coverage: North America -- United States Virgin Islands
Abstract: The Enid M. Baa Library of the Division of Libraries, Archives and Museums (DLAM) has acquired an extensive collection of memorial booklets since the early 1970's for U. S. Virgin Islands residents. Booklets are usually more than 10 pages long and give details of the life and family connections of the deceased.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: CA01300242
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of the Virgin Islands
Holding Location: Enid M. Baa Library and Archives, Virgin Islands Department of Libraries, University of the Virgin Islands
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.

Full Text

of the
Amesta Cardoin Lewis
"Miss Anesta"
September 8, 1908
May 15s, 1996 '

by: James Weldon Johnson
A Tribute to
Anesta Caroline Lewis

Weep not, weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken grandchildren weep no more;
Grief-stricken relatives- weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter weep no more;
She's only just gone home.
On Wednesday, May 15, 1996,
God was looking down from his great, high heaven,
Looking down on all his children,
And his eye fell on Miss Anesta,
Tossing on her bed of pain.
And God's big heart was touched with pity,
With the everlasting pity.
And God sat back on his throne,
And he commanded that tall, bright angel standing
at his right hand:
Call me Death!
And that tall, bright angel cried in a voice
That broke like a clap of thunder,
Call Death! Call Death!
And the echo sounded down the streets of heaven
Till it reached away back to that shadowy place,
Where Death waits with his pale, white horses.
And Death heard the summons,
And he leaped on his fastest horse,
Pale as a sheet in the moonlight.
Up the golden street Death galloped,
And the hoofs of his horse struck fire from the gold,
But they didn't make no sound.
Up Death rode to the Great White Throne,
And waited for God's command.
And God said: Go down, Death, go down,
Go down to Roy L Scneider Hospital
Down in St. Thomas, And find Miss Anesta.
She's borne the burden and heat of the day,
She's labored long in my vineyard.
And she's tired-
She's weary -
fi" 0own. eath. and bring her to me.

And Death didn't say a word,
But he loosed'the reins on his pale, white horse,
And he clamped the spurs to his bloodless sides,
And out and dpwn he rode,
Through heaven's pearly gates,
Past suns and moons and stars;
On Death rode,
And the foam from his horse was like a comet
in the sky;
On Death rode,
Leaving the lightning's flash behind;
Straight on down he came.
While we were watching round her bed,
She turned her eyes and looked away,
She saw what we couldn't see;
She saw Old Death. She saw Old Death
Coming like a falling star.
But Death didn't frighten Miss Anesta;
He looked to her like a welcome friend.
And she whispered to us; I'm going home,
And she smiled and closed her eyes.
And Death took her up like a baby,
And she lay in his icy arms,
But she didn't feel no chill,
And Death began to ride again--
Up beyond the evening star,
Out beyond the morning star,
Into the glittering light of glory,
On to the Great White Throne.
And there he laid Miss Anesta
On the loving breast of Jesus,
And Jesus took his own hand and wiped away
her tears,
And he smoothed the furrows from her face,
And the angels sang a little song,
And Jesus rocked her in his arms,
And kept a-saying: Take your rest,
Take your rest, take your rest.
Weep not -- weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.

May 21,996

Prayer of
St. Francis ofAssisi

Make me an Instrument of your PEACE.
Where there Is hatred let me sow LOVE.
Where there Is injury, PARDON.
Where there Is doubt, FAITH.
Where there Is despair, HOPE.
Where there Is darkness, LIGHT.
And where there Is sadness, JOY.
Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to CONSOLE.
To be understood as to UNDERSTAND.
To be loved, as to LOVE.
FOR It Is in GIVING that we receive,
That we are pardoned,
And it Is in dying
That we are born to ETERNAL LIFE.

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